The Bird and the Cage
by skyisthelimit
Summary: Only birds can return to their old nests" Shapeshifted or no, Numair Salmalin is no bird. While his student is preoccupied in mediating the conflict between the Gods and Carthak, Numair is left alone to manage the conflicts within himself. Numair's EM
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi! This is a story I started writing to get rid of my writers block. I'm taking Emporer Mage and making it third person limited to Numair. Why? Because I love Numair :). I'm starting from EM because my Wild Magic is lent out right now, and I didn't really want to start with Wolf Speaker, so I chose EM. I hope I do it justice!**

**P.S. I am fully aware that there are other stories like mine that take one of the books and make it Numair-centric, and I fully encourage you to read them, too. There's one specifically that I really enjoyed called Two Weeks in Carthak by Sonnet Lacewings. Her stories are amazing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own. Really.**

**Also, there is a point in this chapter where I mention Numair wanting to give Daine a book to write everything down. This idea is, regretfully, not mine. Please read Verity by muhnemma. It's wondrous!**

**Oh yes, and please excuse some typos**

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Numair Salmalìn shifted uncomfortably. This was not what he would call one of the better days of his life. Not only was he about to return to the land he had once fled in order to preserve his life, but he was also squashed in a stuffy cabin with at least a dozen other people, fighting seasickness.

Noticing his discomfort, the girl beside him moved over as far as she could on the bunk they were currently sitting on, trying to give him more room. A blue-scaled creature on her lap gave a small squeak, and curled herself into a tighter ball in acquiesce.

Grateful and touched at the gesture, Numair smiled at his student and friend of two years. "Thank you, Daine," he said. Not daring to neglect the dragon, he added, "And you, Kitten."

"It's only for a bit," Daine tried to assure him.

Before he could ease her concern, however, the other small woman that sat next to him grumbled, "If we don't wrap this up soon, _I _will be only a 'bit.'"

Numair grinned in amusement. His old and dear friend the Lioness was not famous for her patience.

Once everyone had finally crowded into the room, Numair aided the other mages in the wards, a mix of mage fire stretching to cover the walls and door.

"No one can listen to us, magically or physically?" the old and slightly worn elder asked. Numair quickly assured him the affirmative, as the other mages nodded in support. Duke Gareth of Naxen smiled. "Then we are safe indeed."

The room fell into a serious attention. Now business began.

"Let me remind all of you one last time: _be very careful_ regarding you actions while we are here. Do _nothing_ to jeopardize our missions. The emperor is willing to make peace, but that peace is in no matter secure," the Duke said sternly, addressing the Tortallan group one last time before they were to dock at the mouth of the Zekoi. "If negotiations fall through due to an error on our parts, the other Eastern Lands will not support us. We will be on our own, and Carthak will be on _us_.

"We need this peace. We cannot match the imperial armies and navy –" Numair grimaced at the Duke's words. He knew all too well the might of Carthak's armies; he had been there as Ozorne had been mustering it. "—any more than we can match imperial wealth. In a fight on Tortallan soil, we _might _prevail, but a war of any kind would be long and costly, in terms of lives and in terms of resources."

The violet-eyed lady knight scowled. "Do we have to bow and scrape and tug our forelocks then, sir? We don't want to seem weak to these southerners, do we?" Trust Alanna to be concerned of that.

Duke Gareth shook his head and replied, "No, but neither should we take risks – particularly not you," referring to Alanna's well-known temper. The duke continued, "Go nowhere we are forbidden to go. Do not speak of freedom to the slaves. However we may dislike the practice, it would be unwise to show that dislike publicly." Numair suppressed a sigh. Another thing he would have to deal with while there, deeper than the others.

As the duke continued to list cautions, Numair pondered the covert plans he was a part of. Lindhall, his old teacher and friend, had been helping to smuggle slaves out of the country for decades, and recently the crowned prince, who had become Lindhall's new student, had apparent became involved in a brewing uprising from various disgruntled lords, workers, and scholars. Numair himself would be helping extensively in both during his stay in Carthak. _I just can't resist danger, can I?_ Numair thought dryly.

He returned his attention to the duke in time to hear him warn the party of listening spells.

"Kitten will be able to detect listening spell," assured Numair, "I am not saying she can't be magicked, but most of the common sorceries won't fool her."

The small immortal straightened a little and chirped, always completely aware of what was being said around her. Numair always wondered at her intelligence, even now.

The duke smiled at Kitten, then focused on the young women holding her. "Daine, be careful. You'll be on your own more than the rest of us, though it's my hope that if you can help his birds. The emperor will let you be. Those birds are his only weakness, I think."

Numair silently agreed. Even as boys Ozorne was especially protective of his exotic aviary. Still, he couldn't help but gaze at his student with worry. Daine was more than his apprentice and ally; she was the close, dear friend that shared his enthusiasm for learning 9if not for overly long scriptures), put up with his eccentric and sometimes scattered mind frame, kept him line many times a day, and so much more. She had become one of the most, if not _the_ most, important thing to Numair, and the threat that she might be harmed by the Emperor Mage of all people made him fraught with worry.

"You understand the rules?" Lord Martin interrupted Numair's ponderings. "No childish pranks. Mind your manners, and do as you're told." He spoke down to Daine as if she was a child. Numair suppressed his exasperation. He knew well the narrow-minded and the superior-like attitude of most nobles. Lord Martin, unfortunately (unlike George) was not an exception.

Kitten, however, made no attempt to keep in her indignation, and let out a squawk of disapproval. Numair swiftly but gently silenced her while calmly defending his friend.

"Daine understands these things quite well. I trust her judgment, and have done so on far more dangerous missions than this."

In the corner of his eye, he saw Alanna nod in agreement.

"We would not have brought her if we believed otherwise," Duke Gareth assuaged the tension. He changed the subject of his concern to Numair, "Remember, Master Numair, you, too, must be careful. The emperor was extraordinarily gracious to grant a pardon to you, and to allow you to meet with scholars at the palace. Don't forget the conditions of that pardon. If he catches you in wrongdoing, he will be able to arrest, try, even execute you, and we will be helpless to stop him."

Numair gave him a crooked smile. As if he could ever forget why he was being allowed to come back (for better or for worse). "Believe me, Your Grace, I don't plan to give Ozorne any excuse to rescind my pardon." Flashes of the time at his imprisonment appeared before his chocolate eyes. "I was in his dungeons once, and see no reason to repeat the experience."

That seemed to appease Duke Gareth for the time being. He then moved on to his parting statement and dismissal. Numair and Alanna filed out of the room as quickly as possible, eager to be free from the cramped and stuffy room. They parted ways in the corridor, going to their separate rooms to change out of travel clothes before the boat docked.

In his room, Numair stripped his wrinkled clothes and donned a silk shirt and breeches. He let out his springy mass of black hair, put the standard lotions in it (ignoring a paranoid side of him that mocked him for his vanity), and smoothed it back into a horsetail, as usual. He kept the jewelry minimal, keeping the ruby drop in his ear (a simple protective jewel), his opal pendant necklace, and a ring on his forefinger.

Finally, he slipped into the black robe he normally did his best to avoid wearing. Knowing, however, it was expected at this occasion for mages of the university to wear robes of their station, Numair couldn't escape it. This time, though, Numair was less reluctant to put it on. Usually his modest self detested the unwanted gaping attention it brought, but today, it gave Numair the small boost of confidence he needed to stride upstairs to the deck and finally face the country he had ran from eight years ago.

The mage gazed at the shore getting nearer by the minute. His first sight of Carthak after so long was not what he had expected, though perhaps he should have. Dog, cats, and all the other land animals that could make it to the harbor lined the docks, while every seabird imaginable roosted on every inch of mast and sails on each boat. Silently and eerily they gazed at Numair's vessel.

Numair smiled and silently thanked Daine for unknowingly taking some of the tension of what would have been a stressful reunion. Carthak did not seem so intimidating now that Daine's influence over it was so obvious. Numair even noted with some amusement that the delegation waiting on the galley was eyeing the animals with terror.

But even after that odd sight, Numair couldn't help but fall back to a somber mood. That galley would soon take him to a place he hadn't wanted to return to for many years, if ever: the imperial palace—his former best friend's domain.

Before he could brood for long, however, the animal he had just been observing broke into a loud, echoing welcome. Numair knew Daine must have come on deck. He watched the Carthakis in vicinity of the harbor all simultaneously make the Sign over their chests. Numair felt a small swell of pride. The last time he had been here, people believed wild magic to be an old wives tale. Now those same people must experience the consequences of their chosen ignorance.

Soon, however, Numair was brought back to his brooding. He recalled other elements of his life in Carthak other than Ozorne. There were other classmates, who he might have though as friends ten years ago, but now Numair knew it was really a bond of convenience, a weak desire to be acquainted with a black-robe mage, easily severed when Ozorne issued the warrant for Numair's arrest. There were old lovers; Numair wondered if any married. He knew he would most likely still flirt with them should the occasion rise, but otherwise Numair felt nothing but disinterest and apathy. These days he cared less and less about the flings he would normally partake often in. Maybe he was growing out of them. Numair frowned at that thought. Was he really becoming so old?

Any other acquaintance he might have had in Carthak would be gone by now. Even if they had remained, Numair doubted he would rejoice in seeing them. After all, Numair Salmalìn was so much different from Arram Draper. Arram was gone, and Numair was here to stay. He had new friends, _real _friends. He had a life here. While Arram had depended on the emperor for his luxurious lifestyle, Numair lived a self sufficient, more-than-comfortable living, where the country depended on him as well as the other way around.

While this mental defining comforted him slightly, Numair couldn't release all his tension as he gripped the boat's railing, watching as the harbor drew nearer. However, he managed to keep his face smooth and expressionless; this was his own, personal test of control, for should he fail, Numair feared he might end up collapsing on the deck from the stress.

Daine chose that moment to appear by his side after her silent conversation with the animals. Numair realized that the animals were now all gone, leaving the Carthakis to wipe their sweaty faces with clammy hands. For all she only as tall as his shoulder, she brought a soothing, reliable presence to comfort him with.

"Are you alright?" she spoke softly, "Is something wrong?"

"No, magelet," he said just as quietly, "And I am as well as may be expected. I can't say which prospect makes me more apprehensive—that of meeting old enemies, or old friends." He didn't even try to keep things from Daine. She had earned more than that. That, and she would see straight through him anyway. Numair had started to believe she had been spending too much time with the Lioness.

"Old enemies, surely?"

Numair smiled to himself. Daine's simple mindset often proved to be very refreshing. This time, unfortunately, to adopt it would be more of a wishful rather than practical method.

"I don't know. I was very different. And you know what the wise men say—'Only birds can return to their old nests,'" he said, reciting an old proverb.

Mentally, he shook himself. _It doesn't do to dwell on such things_.

He turned to look at his student for the first time since the cabin meeting. He was pleasantly surprised. "Mithros bless," he smiled, "_You_ look very pretty." That was an understatement. Numair realized with some sadness that the child he had met as a hawk those years ago no longer existed. Beside him now was a beautiful, mature, young lady who he had come to depend on through thick and thin. _Though she might not need _me _anymore,_ he thought sadly, _I really _am _getting old_.

Color rose in Daine's cheeks. "You think so really? I know I don't hold a candle to Alanna, or the queen—"

He stopped her with his hand. Another refreshing attribute of Daine's was how she managed to stay humble and modest, unlike most other court ladies. Thus, Numair knew he was safe to complement her without fear that her vanity might increase or she might misunderstand.

"That isn't strictly accurate. The Lioness is one of my dearest friends, but she is _not _and exemplar of female beauty. Years and experience have given her charm, and her eyes are extraordinary, but she is not beautiful. Queen Thayet is astoundingly attractive, it's true, but you have your own—something."

In the back of his mind, Numair couldn't help but wonder why he was delivering this compliment like a scholar, rather than using his usual flattery. It was immediately suppressed, however, before Numair could think much of it.

He studied Daine as she giggles, her laughter lighting up striking storm-grey eyes made brighter by her dress. "You should wear blue more often. It brings out matching shades in you eyes."

A voice joined their talk. "I heard that about _my_ looks." Numair winced, praying the Lioness hadn't taken too much offense. "I'll get you later." Numair flickered his eyes towards the sword that hung around her waist. He grinned, though, at her playful manner.

"You do look good," she told Daine.

Daine's cheeks darkened once more. "Thanks. So do you."

Now, the ship was just about to dock. The rest of the delegation, having dressed up, joined them on the deck. Numair tightened his grip on the rails. Soon, he would step foot on the place that had, for a time, invaded his nightmares.

He thought he felt Daine tug his sleeve, and he half listened as she requested to speak with him privately, but the request flew out of his mind almost immediately. He watched as they passed various Carthaki ships, their structures uncomfortably familiar. As if to match his thoughts, a gong sounded across the harbor, ringing with a tone of finality that marked Numair's return to Carthak.

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"His Imperial Highness, Kaddar Gazanai Iliniat, Head of the House Khazoi, Prince of Siraj—"

Numair inwardly sighed. In the first few moments of his return, all he had done was listen to overly long introductions. Sometimes, Numair found himself truly despising diplomacy.

Tuning out the rest of the prince's long title, Numair studied the boy he would be working with with Lindhall. For the most part, Numair couldn't read him very well. The Prince kept his face expressionless. _A true diplomat_, Numair thought wryly.

When the mage was introduced, Numair saw a flicker of recognition in Kaddar's paint-framed eyes, and watched as his eyes darted swiftly towards the Carthaki delegation. Numair his face front, but he was itching to observe who was among the Southern party, and mentally kicked himself for not thinking to look before. _The price of being too self-occupied, I suppose_, he thought.

The prince, having quickly composed himself, nodded to Numair's bow, said his routine formal greeting, and dismissed him, giving nothing away.

Numair quickly rejoined the line of Tortallans and immediately scanned over the Carthaki ambassadors and scholars.

There was Master Chioké, who Numair knew to be Ozorne's head mage. Numair took note of and memorized his Gift's essence. There was Duke Etiakret, another formidable person to be wary of.

Numair scanned through the rest of the Carthakis, recognizing some and not others. Finally, his eyes rested on a very familiar and welcomed face. Numair grinned at the sight of his old mentor and friend, Lindhall Reed.

Mustering his patience to greet him, Numair turned his attention back to the introductions just in time to see Daine and Kit walk up to the prince. The formal introductions were made, when Kaddar began to inquire about Kit and dragons. Numair watched as the royal was gently scolded for getting carried away, then listened as he offered to guide Daine around the sights. Numair bristled slightly at the prince's clearly reluctant tone, but let it pass.

Finally, the other ambassadors were introduced. Numair made sure to remember each face and name and any special attributes. At last, the herald announced Lindhall. He and Numair embraced fiercely. _At the very least, I know there is one friend that was a true companion during my time here,_ thought Numair, mood brightened considerably.

"Arram," Lindhall greeted, "Welcome, if that is the proper word."

"I'm surprised you remembered our arrival," Numair teased. His voice was somewhat hoarse with emotion. "I thought I'd have to root you out of your work room."

"No, no. I have a good assistant, better than you were. She keeps track of everything. Unfortunately, she's about to go live with the merfolk and study their culture. I hear they're moving in all along the Tortallan coast. I'd thought they'd live in rookeries, like sea lions, but their nature appears to be more tribal. And you are Arram's student," Lindhall said, practically in one breath. Numair saw Daine jump at Lindhall's sudden address to her and inwardly chuckled. He had almost forgotten Lindhall's tendency to attempt to say everything he was thinking without break. Numair was accustomed to his old teaching master's frequent and sudden changes in subject, but it appeared his own student was not.

"He wrote me so much about you," Lindhall continued, "He says you _know_ how bats avoid objects and catch prey. When I was a student I incurred censure when I hypothesized that they do it with the manipulation of sound, and Arram said you proved that to be true." Numair smiled. He often wondered at the enormity of questions and conflicts Daine could easily settle in the educational community. _Soon, I'll have to convince her to write everything down. There would be several scholars who would treasure her writings_, Numair thought. It was also nice to see his current student and his former teacher get along.

Daine gave a sweet smile of her own before beginning to answer, "Well, yes. They squeak at things. Their ears move separately, to gather in what they hear, and each sound has a meaning—"

"I don't like to interrupt," Numair reluctantly cut in, "but, Lindhall, I have questions that require answers. Forgive me, both of you." He hated doing it, but he had quite a few things to discuss that could only be talked of outside the palace.

After stopping Lindhall from once more becoming immersed in learning, this time about whales, Numair finally managed to drag him away.

Off to a corner of the galley, Numair cast a simple spell that would avert anyone's eyes and ears from the duo.

"I must congratulate you, Numair, on your luck in your student. The things you can learn from her…" Lindhall trailed off wistfully.

Numair grinned, "Now that you've met her, you have an excuse to correspond with her directly, rather than sending your numerous inquiries through _me_."

"Hmm, yes, very true."

At that moment, there was a shout, and the army camps along the bank saluted the passing imperial galley loudly. The two scholars grimaced. As if they needed reminders of the threat Carthak posed.

"Lindhall, was my package safely delivered?" Numair said lowly, switching the subject to the serious matters that were the reason Numair pulled Lindhall away in the first place.

Lindhall's voice lost its distant tone. "Yes. I have locked it away in a safe place at the university. However, I hope you won't need it."

Numair sighed, "Nor I. But with Ozorne, I must take every precaution I can."

Lindhall nodded. "I have new routes for you as well, in preparing for the worse. I'll transfer them to you later."

Numair gave his own nod. "Lindhall, I noticed that His Highness recognized my name—"

"Yes, I have informed Kaddar prior to this that you had agreed to aid us."

"During our correspondence, you were vague on exactly what you needed help with. All you mentioned was a seditious—"

"Not here, Arram. It's too risky," Lindhall cut off.

"Numair, please," Numair corrected. "I will try to procure some opportunity for me to sneak away to the university. When I do, inform Kaddar to meet there as well."

"Of course. I—"

There was a loud gasp. Numair turned in time to see brown curls dive off the galley and into the murky water. Together, Lindhall and Numair ran to the galley's edge, where the prince stared in shock as the girl swam towards what looked like a drowning monkey, some crocodiles surrounding it.

"What happened, Your Highness?" Lindhall asked the prince.

The bewildered boy replied, "I don't know. One moment I was telling her about crocodiles, and the vicious creatures they were—"

"I thought I taught you more open-mindedness than that," Lindhall frowned.

Kaddar's skin got darker, but he went on, "The next moment, she cried out to the crocodiles, and dove in!"

By this time, Daine had reached the animal, and was soothing it. The crocodiles were swimming away.

"So I suppose all that's been said about her powers are true," Kaddar remarked.

"Yes, of course," Numair said calmly. The prince jumped at Numair's reply, but the mage ignored it. Instead, he reached out a hand, sparkling black fire spilling out of it and soaring to wrap around Daine. Gently, Numair used his magic to pick her and the animal out of the water, and safely back on to the deck. There she stood, sopping wet, still cradling the creature in her arms. Her face was a bright, cherry red. Around them, various people murmured or chortled. As for Numair, he was unsurprised. He knew when it came to an animal in need, Daine forgot what would be prudent in regard to her surroundings.

He made his way over to his student, who looked mortified.

"Hush, Kit," he murmured to the dragon that was gently scolding her. She fell silent.

"Are you alright?" he asked the girl.

She nodded, keeping her face down. "I'm fine. Humiliated but fine." She stroked the wet, trembling creature in her hand. "This little one, however, I think is traumatized."

"It's a pygmy marmoset, I believe," said Lindhall, who had come to join them, "imported from the Copper Isles. Nobles often have rare pets sent to them from overseas."

Daine nodded. "He was drowning because that boy put a collar on him that weighed twice as much as he." She stroked it again, calming it down, before looking pleadingly up to Numair. "Numair, I'm so sorry, but I couldn't help it. He was about to be eaten, and—"

"Shh, magelet, calm down. You saved a life. That's something to be proud of," he told her kindly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Pay no mind to these people. They'll forget it by supper."

"But I offended the prince—"

This time, Lindhall spoke. "You didn't. At least, he won't be offended by an act that saved an animal, if he is to continue to be my student."

Daine looked at the two mages with gratitude.

Gently, Numair swept her wet hair back and led her to the corner he and Lindhall were in previously, away from prying eyes. "Come, we have almost reached the palace. We'll get you washed and dried in no time."

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Numair sighed, looking about his room. He had handed Daine over to the slaves in the ladies' quarters and then was sent to his room to prepare for the evening, where they were to be introduced to the Emperor Mage himself. Numair had bathed, and now, in his shift he examined the quarters he would be staying in for a predicted two weeks. It was simple in structure, but lavishly decorated, as he expected. The most noteworthy feature of the room was the stuffed king vulture in one corner. Numair frowned, and was glad it was in _his_ room, rather than Daine's.

Sitting down, Numair sunk into the bed. He was really here. He was really in Carthak, in the imperial palace, no less, and he was moments away from seeing the best friend who had betrayed him all those years ago.

Numair sighed again. "Goddess give me strength."

Definitely not one of the better days of his life.

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**A/N: So, what do you think? **

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm back! And actually in a semi timely fashion! I SHOULD be studying for finals, but hey, who cares about them? Summer's coming soon (Groan, i'm still looking for a job), and that SHOULD mean more time. But that's alot of SHOULDs. **

**Okay, in this chapter, we step a little farther away from EM. I have to, otherwise this would still be Daine-centric, just through Numair's eyes, and while that may be interesting in RotG, remember, he doesn't know he's in love with her yet. But i do have fun weaving a little of Numair's protective (coughjealouscough) side :). **

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**Disclaimer: I do not own.**

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Chapter 2

Numair absentmindedly waved away a slave that served fruit juices. He couldn't deal with them. Not now. He was literally minutes away from being introduced to the Emperor, and was currently mustering every ounce of his strength and composure. The famed black mage of Tortall, brought low by just the presence of the Emperor Mage? Numair couldn't allow that to happen.

Daine entered the antechamber, where the party was to wait before being announced to the Emperor. Numair looked up to smile at his student, and was once more taken aback. The lady before him wore a twinkling dark blue dress with silver embroidery, flattering her figure. Smoky but silky brown curls were pinned back out of her face, now completely devoid of childish features. Numair was struck again by the realization that Daine was maturing beautifully. He gave her a genuine smile.

"You'll break hearts tonight," he told her teasingly.

She flushed, but looked at him with concern. "You'll be okay?" Numair knew of what she spoke. With his attention to Daine, Numair had momentarily forgotten of his earlier turmoil. Reminded, Numair felt his energy drop. He smiled a little less brightly, and said, "Don't worry about me, magelet."

This time, she smiled. "But I must. Elsewise no one would notice if you were killed having finally pushed one of the palace workers to murder."

Numair pretended to be offended. "I am not _that_ rude."

"Not a-purpose, master mage. But your scatteredness provokes a lot of folk with short tempers."

"Point taken," Numair surrendered, his heart a little lighter. Joking with Daine must be one of the greatest remedies in existence. Numair made a self note to present his medicinal discovery to some healers.

By then, the rest of the Tortallan delegation had arrived. Harailt, dean of magical studies at the royal university that Numair had helped founded, came to join the two mages, as did Lindhall. Daine took to inspecting something on the ceiling. Numair went back to his brooding (He noticed he was doing that quite a lot recently).

Would he be able to handle this? He remembered Ozorne's betrayal as if it had been yesterday. Since ten, Numair heard often – too often, lately – of the Emperor Mage, but always avoided confronting his uneasiness. Now he had no choice.

_And?_ a voice in his mind sounded, _How does that relate to anything? Choice or no, you have to meet Ozorne anyway, so you might as well stop being so melodramatic about it._ That sounded suspiciously like something Onua would say.

"How do the lamps keep burning?" Numair heard Daine ask, interrupting his pondering.

"Magic," said Harailt, "Numair, why didn't you tell us about this light spell? To have steady, strong illumination—"

Looking up, Numair realized they were referring to the crystal globes hanging from the ceiling – a small representation of the change that must have taken place here after his departure. "They didn't have it when I was here," he said matter-of-factly. "They did something with glass balls, but they faded after a short time. These aren't glass."

"The globes are filled with crystals," Lindhall elaborated, "Remind me, and I'll have one of the craft mages explain it to you. You'll be all right Arra—I'm sorry—Numair?"

Under normal circumstances, Numair, too, would have been curious of the spells and patterns that let crystals emanate light. But just then, the doors to the antechamber opened, and again Numair became very stressed. He managed a smile, and assured Lindhall and Daine, who were looking at him with concern again.

"I have to be, don't I?" He took a deep breath, composing himself all he could one last time. "Here we go, into the presence of the one and only Emperor Mage. Huzza."

The foreign delegation entered the audience chamber as the page beckoned them in. Bracing himself, Numair caught his first glimpse of the Emperor.

Out of all the reactions he expected from himself, none came close to the one that occurred. Numair was almost shocked to discover that he was reacting indifferently. Despite the panic that had gone on in his mind afore this moment, at the actual occasion, Numair hardly reacted at all. Even when he relaxed his tight control over his composure, there was still no reaction. No hysteria that might bubble out, no panic attack, nothing.

No longer was he influenced by the 'imperial presence'. He was free. Really, truly free.

Numair had enough sense to not let his exultation show. As the continued to approach the dais, he kept his facial expression as apathetic as his reaction. His gaze was directly forward and straight; even as Ozorne's (literally) glittering eyes scanned the line, Numair did not flinch the slightest.

Head cleared, Numair took the time to observe the room, as his duty entailed. Now looking at Ozorne as the Emperor of a foreign nation he was here to negotiate with, and not as a man who had betrayed him, Numair took in the minute details that might be crucial to Tortall's approach and knowledge.

The ruler was overly jeweled and gilded, as usual. He paid no attention to the lavished accessories like he could tell his colleagues did. He did, however, note some particular jewels, like the Emperor Mage's collar of black opals, and some of the rings that held rubies and other gems that Numair knew to be protective jewels.

Finding nothing else of interest, he began to think of a new book waiting for him at home. When his name was called, he came back to reality enough to walk up to the dais and bow, not giving the emperor the satisfaction of seeing him nervous – not that Ozorne looked at him in the first place. When he rejoined the line, he fell back to his mind-wandering. He perked, however, when Daine was introduced.

He watched carefully as he steadily walked toward the imperial throne. Numair noticed quite a few young clerks eyeing Daine with admiration and appreciation. Numair frowned. For some reason, this annoyed him, even though he should have expected as much.

Now, his student and Kit had reached the dais. Dane paused right before it, while Kit did not stop until she reached the emperor's feet.

Tense, Numair watched as Ozorne questioned Daine, predictably about Kit. The longer he talked with her, even if it was only a few moments altogether, the more rigid and edgy Numair became.

Finally the emperor dismissed her after an impressive display from Kit, and Numair relaxed slightly. Ozorne made his speech to the room, and the Tortallans went back to the antechamber. The separating wall was gratingly lowered, and by the emperor's wave of allowance, everyone began to converse. Numair saw Daine practically collapse onto a cushioned niche in the wall. He quickly made his way over and sat down beside her, as did Duke Gareth.

Numair cupped Daine's cheek in one hand, searching her face for any distress. She seemed slightly tired, but nothing more. "Are you alright?" he asked, just to make sure. "I had forgotten how intimidating he can be when he has all his imperialness on."

Daine looked toward the throne, and said "I noticed." She turned back, this time concerned about him. "Are _you_ alright? Did he say anything to you?"

He smiled in assurance. "No. If I'm lucky, he'll ignore me for the rest of my stay. That's how he always managed such things when we were boys, anyway. If someone bested him at anything, he just pretended that person didn't exist. He got to be very good at it." Looking back, he realized that there were so many things that might have alerted Numair to Ozorne's true character – and his own, flawed one – well _before_ he was arrested, or even long before that, when the two friends first started falling apart. But there was nothing that could be done about the past, and Numair wouldn't trade the result of all those hardships and mistakes for the greatest library in the realm. Numair was more than happy with where he was now.

Duke Gareth spoke, "It went well. You did us credit, Daine."

Numair nodded in agreement, though Daine did not see. He was very proud of his student for maintaining a cool composure throughout her entire conversation with the emperor. If it were him, Numair was sure he'd do much worse.

"Thank you, Your Grace," said Daine.

Just then, Gareth the Younger, Harailt, and Lindhall came with servants that carried fruit juices. The party helped themselves, grateful for the refreshment.

After a moment, Lindhall remarked, "So far, so good. Numair, did he speak to you?"

Numair was touched by everyone's concern. But he knew he did not need to worry as much any longer. He was unaffected by Ozorne, and no longer had any reason to fear him.

"He didn't even look at me. He spoke the most with Daine," Numair replied.

The aforementioned person inquired "But what about his birds? I came all the way to see them, and he didn't mention them at all." Of course Daine would be more distressed about animals than having spoken with the Emperor Mage. Numair expected this as much as he had expected Daine to recklessly dive into the water for the struggling marmoset. Actually, Numair only tolerated Daine coming here in the first place because the importance, diplomacy-wise, of the task that only she could accomplish.

"Rulers don't act as other men," the duke explained. "All requirements of protocol must be met before personal considerations may intrude. You must be patient until he sends for you."

Numair heard Daine protest under her breath, and he internally smiled. Patience had never been one of Daine's strong suits. However, while he sympathized for the sick birds, he knew Duke Gareth was right. It would be must likely unwise for Daine to act on her impatient nature here. So he gestured with his finger to his lips for Daine to say no more of the subject, and watched as Daine reluctantly submit.

Just then, a high-pitched, slightly familiar voiced called his boyhood name. "_Arram_"

Numair searched for its source and found a blue-eyed, blond haired woman, hands outstretched. He had to peruse his mind a little, but quickly remember his last lover before he had fled Carthak. He rose, shocked. "Varice?"

"The same old Varice Kingsford," she curled red, full lips that Numair had once found irresistible up into a smile. "I'm surprised you remember me."

Quickly assuming his usual gallant self, he took her delicate hands and kissed them both. "How could I forget you, my dear? You're lovelier than I remember," he flattered her. "You must tell me _everything_ I've missed. What changed are in the palace, and at the university? Are you married; may I kill your husband—"

She laughed, and led him away to the opposite wall.

"Nothing really has changed so much," she said with a flirtatious smile. "_I_ haven't changed."

Numair hesitated. He knew that she meant to insinuate that she wished to kindle old flames, however, Numair thought of it differently. Varice hadn't changed. But he had. Wasn't he just thinking about those changes on the galley? How Arram was no longer Arram, but Numair?

Varice let her smile slip slightly. "Arram, is something wrong?"

Numair forced a broad grin. "Numair, if you please. And no, nothing is wrong. So, you are not married?"

Her smile returned. "No, I am not. No new men in my life, as of right now. And you?" Numair noticed Varice's gaze dart to the other side of the room, where Daine was feeding Zek some grapes. He did not, however, notice Varice sniff a little.

"Well, I have taken on a new student," Numair said, his voice filled with pride, "a sensible young lady who is very adept at learning."

Varice looked confused. "If she has the Gift, would it not be better for her to attend the university? Here or in Tortall?"

"She is not Gifted," said Numair, bracing himself for what he knew would come.

"Then why is she your student?"

"She has wild magic, not the Gift, and enough of it that she needed training," Numair explained. Internally, he sighed. Numair could see he would be explaining this to quite a few others. Varice would not be the only skeptical one.

"Wild magic? Surely, Arram, you do not still believe in such tales," Varice said. It was Dunlath all over again.

"Of course I do. Daine is living proof. She can communicate with animals, and impress her will on them if needed. She can shape shift. No, it's not the same as mage shape shifting. She does not need a shape spell, and she does not need to hold on to it either. She can change to virtually any animal with little side effects. In fact, her magic is the reason she is here. King Jonathan sent her to heal the emperor's birds."

"I see," said Varice, only slightly mollified. "So, Arram, tell me…" and she successfully diverted the conversation. She was flirtatious and charming, and Numair returned the tone in kind. While it was pleasant flirting with Varice, for it made him feel twenty again, it wasn't the same anymore. However, Numair decided not to dwell on it too much, and enjoyed himself as much as possible. Varice really hadn't changed. And while that held some positives, it also held equal negatives. She was still unambitious, and Numair found himself preferring his intelligent or enjoyable conversations with his Tortallan friends. But he kept himself as lively as ever, and Varice seemed pleased.

Finally, Varice asked, "Arram, why don't you come into the gardens with me for some privacy?"

He smiled, and was about to accept – after all, he didn't mind Varice's company that much – when he, out of habit, glanced toward where Daine was, to make certain she was alright. She was no longer on the cushioned seat he had left her on. Numair looked around the room, trying to find her, or Kitten, or Zek. He did not see any of them. Not a flash of Kitten's sky blue scales, not a glimpse of Daine's dress, nothing. That wouldn't worry him so much, if Numair did not know that the Ozorne figure on the dais was a simulacrum. Numair was already worried about Ozorne's interest in Daine.

"Arram?"

Numair faced Varice again, and gave her an apologetic smile. "Although nothing would please me more than to walk in the gardens with you, my dear, I'm afraid I cannot leave this party yet. I have matters to discuss with Duke Gareth."

"Oh, well," Varice pouted, "Then I suppose I'll let you go."

Numair nodded in thanks, kissed her hand, and made his way over to where the Duke was conversing with Etiakret.

"Your Grace," Numair said, "May I have a word with you?"

Gareth the Elder turned to smile at the mage. "Of course. I was actually about to call for you. Duke Etiakret, if you'll excuse me."

The foreign noble nodded, and took his leave.

"You're here to inquire about Daine, am I correct?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I—"

"She is in the aviary. I was just told that Ozorne is having one of his mages show her to the aviary, so she may attempt to cure the birds."

Numair's face clouded over with anger and worry. He did _not _like Diane being alone with Ozorne and a Carthaki mage.

"Numair, what is wrong?"

"You Grace, I do not like Daine with Ozorne with no supervision from one of us," Numair admitted.

"But she is not with His Imperial Highness. Emperor Ozorne is on the dais," the elder looked confused.

"That is a simulacrum," Numair said, "And I do not sense his presence in this room."

"Truly?" Gareth was surprised.

"Yes."

The Duke sighed. "It is at times like these that I wish I were not so old. My Gift is virtually useless now. But still, Numair, you shouldn't worry too much. Ozorne would not risk giving offense at all so early, before negotiations have even begun. Also, his current purpose is for Daine to help his birds, which you know to be his most precious possessions to him, second only to his crown. And Daine is sensible. She should be fine."

Although Duke Gareth's argument was logical, it did not appease Numair. The thought of Daine alone with Numair gave him a dark sense of wariness and fear. He couldn't place it exactly, but he knew that Ozorne would never have good intentions towards anyone, regardless of favors – at least, by Numair's definition of 'good intentions'.

Just then, another bald slave stepped beside Numair and bowed. "I am to tell Nobility Salmalìn that Nobility Lindhall is in the aviary with Nobility Sarrasri, and that his imperial master Ozorne is on his way back to the audience chamber." (**A/N: teehee. I had fun with all those 'nobilities'**)

Numair felt himself visibly relax as he nodded in thanks to the slave. After the slave left, Gareth said, "See Numair? Nothing to worry about. Now go enjoy the party. Tonight will probably be the least stressful night you will have in the next two weeks."

Numair managed a small smile, bowing his leave. _Easier said than done_, he thought. With Varice no where in sight, and Lindhall, Daine, and Kitten occupied in the aviary, Numair found himself without company. He didn't really mind that, but it was slightly awkward standing solitary in the room when all others were conversing. He made his way over to a slave he saw holding small pastries, and there Master Chioké joined him.

"Evening, Master Numair," he said politely, easy smile on his face.

Numair returned the greeting after swallowing his bite of pastry.

"How are you doing? I hope Carthak hasn't become a disappointment," Chioké said expectantly.

Numair spoke carefully. "I could hardly hope to pass judgment this early."

"Of course, of course. Yes, I almost forgot you are very prudent and by no means a fool."

Numair stiffened slightly, instantly on alert. What was he implying?

"Thank you, Master Chioké."

"I think you'll find that the university is not as it always was," Chioké said casually. Now, Numair visibly stiffened. "I think at least, we are training even more powerful mages. And now we offer classes for those who have already graduated, so they may…improve…their skills."

At this Chioké grinned, and Numair appraised him. He was Carthak's head mage, to be sure. His Gift had been refined extensively, and it was ample enough. From what Numair remembered – he and Chioké had been in absolutely different classes – he was a war mage, like Tristan, but more versatile. Still, Numair had seen more extraordinary, though Chioké seemed to be closer to a b lack robe level more so than any other red robe Numair had seen. But in no way did that mean we was, in the absence of comparisons, actually close to black robe level (while Numair didn't boast his rank in the least, he was too modest – not enough to skewer his perceptions). Chioké's Gift lacked the intensity needed. Numair's own Gift, in the process of his training to be a black robe, had changed from an amberish-orange to it current sparkling black color.

"That is very well, I suppose," Numair finally answered.

"Do not worry, Master Numair. I am no Tristan Staghorn. I am very aware of the power difference between you and me, though I'd like to think I am cleverer than he was." With that, he nodded and took his leave.

Numair frowned, lines creasing his lips and forehead. This was troubling. Numair knew almost exactly what to expect from Ozorne, but he knew only basic information about Chioké. He cursed under his breath for this lack of thoroughness, and swore he would inquire to Lindhall and other university mages about the head Carthaki mage at the next opportunity. In fact, Numair decided to research all of Ozorne's close circle. For all of his knowledge of his former best friend, Numair had forgotten a crucial thing: Ozorne never liked to do the dirty work. Knowing his men was just as important as knowing the man himself.

Numair sighed. In a way he owed Chioké a thank-you, for alerting Numair to his ignorance. But that made Numair wonder if he would call Chioké cleverer – or stupider.

--

Numair walked tiredly to is room. After Chioké, it had seemed many mages suddenly took notice of him, and so Numair had spent the last hour and a half cautiously conversing with the palace mages. Now, all that was on Numair's mind was a bed – any bed.

But when Numair reached his door, he was not alone. Lindhall waited for him, and instantly the weariness of Numair's mind disappeared. Silently, he walked into his room and beckoned Lindhall to follow. When he had done so, Numair closed the doors and warded the room.

Sitting on the bed while Lindhall sat on an armchair, Numair said, "Thank you, Lindhall, for supervising Daine, and letting me know."

"It was no bother. I knew it would worry you if she was alone. It was also very fascinating to watch her work. You've really found yourself an extraordinary pupil."

Numair smiled. "I know. How did it go?"

"She cured all the bird," Lindhall said, respect in his voice, "However, she has yet to determine how the birds got sick in the first place." Numair nodded. Lindhall paused then continued, "I had to warn her against Ozorne. She had only seen the side of Ozorne that shows in front of animals, and she seemed perplexed."

Numair sighed. That had been a worry of his, but, "Daine knows what Ozorne is capable of, and what he has done. In the past two years, she has seen basically as much as I have. I trust her."

Lindhall nodded. "And I trust you. Now, I am here to give you the new routes, so that you may contemplate them before we meet with Kaddar." He raised a hand, fog-colored magic collecting around the fingers.

"Right," Numair consented. Lindhall walked over and placed his fingers on Numair's temples. As the information flowed in, Numair directed it into what he envisioned a s a black, sparkling box in his mind. He would sort through the knowledge later. Numair was just to tired to deal with it at the moment. He made sure to remember where it was in his mind, keeping his mind organized. An experienced mage like himself knew very well he must always remember the basics, even if Numair himself had taught this principle to Daine when she first became his pupil.

"I'll look at it later," Numair told Lindhall. "Before I forget, Lindhall, what do you know about Chioké, and other members of Ozorne's inner circle?"

Lindhall pondered for a while, before answering, "To be honest, not very much at all. I do know Chioké is an especial favorite of Ozorne, and quite adept at the Gift. But, you'd do better to ask Kaddar, or a different palace mage."

Numair nodded wearily. "Thank you, Lindhall, for all your help."

Lindhall shook his head. "I am the one who should be thanking you. You're tired. I'll let you rest." Numair took down the wards. Just as he was about to leave the room, Lindhall paused. "I almost forgot. Your party will be taking a tour of the menagerie tomorrow morning. Guides – most likely Varice and Kaddar – will meet you after breakfast."

Numair nodded, and Lindhall left, closing the door. Numair quickly changed to his night clothes and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, too tired to even dream.

--

"It went quite well last night," Duke Gareth said at breakfast the next day, "some of the imperial ministers are more forthcoming than others, but that is to be expected. I am _particularly _happy with the reports I've had of _you_, Daine."

Numair watched amused as the girl in question paused with her teeth halfway into a chunk of melon. She flushed, putting the melon back on her plate. "_Me_, Your Grace?"

"Emperor Ozorne heard from Master Lindhall that you cured his birds in one session," said Harailt, "The emperor is _very_ pleased – says he has to think of a proper way to express his thanks."

Numair hid a frown. He didn't want Ozorne feeling any need to 'thank' Daine. He distracted himself by petting Zek, who, he had been touched to see, decided to sit on his lap.

"It's like that with some men in high places," said Gary, the Duke's son, "Things that would impress _us _have no effect on them, but a kindness done to creatures they love, they never forget. I hope you'll continue to stay on his good side. The ministers' definition of concessions they will and won't make changed to our benefit after the emperor thanked us for bringing you."

Speaking of creatures they love, "Which reminds me," Numair put in as he gave some food to Zek, "We're scheduled to have a tour of the imperial menagerie after breakfast."

"A menagerie?" Daine said nervously.

Numair knew Daine abhorred cages, so he assured her, "Ozorne would never ill-treat his animals."

"Don't slight him by staying behind," said Gary.

This time, it was Alanna who comforted Daine, wrapping an arm around the slim girl's shoulders. "She wouldn't think of it, Gary. Leave her be."

After breakfast, Varice and Kaddar arrived. Curiously, Numair saw Daine scowl as Varice kissed his cheek. "I shall walk with His Grace," Varice said, "but stay close please. You know so much more about animals than I do."

A few moments later, it was Numair's turn to scowl as Daine ended up having Kaddar as her escort. Numair knew the boy was seemingly decent enough, but he still did not like him being too close to Daine.

The group made their way over to the menagerie, where they past through a wrought-iron gate with the imperial seal of a sword, wand, crown, and jagged circle. _A perfect summary of the land it represents_, Numair thought dryly as they entered the menagerie.

* * *

**A/N: Well? How was it?**

**(Innocent voice): Some of you may be wondering why I put so little flirtations with Varice in here, and most of the actual coversation with Varice was about Daine. Well, to be honest, I just don't like Varice very much, heheh. So i did my best to put as little as possible of her in here without making things choppy. So sorry (Although I dont think many of you are sorry)**

**If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to have each chapter match with those in the book, so that's what you can expect.**

**Oh yeah, who's excited for NUMAIR: THE EARLY YEARS? I only recently discovered that Tamora was planning to write it in the future and I was so happy! I was like "Yay! More Numair!" **

**And who's getting "The Dragon Book"? Where there's a oneshot with Daine and Numair? If you are, there wouldnt be a chance you could just send that one story to me? No? I suppose not. Well I'll probably just go to the bookstore when it comes out, and just read it there on the spot. **

**I also recently finished Bloodhound. Was it great or was it great?! I'm excited for the third! But I have to say, I still like Rosto better than Dale. Probably my favorite quote in that book is when Ersken was like "'Rosto heard that you made a new...friend...down here, and he's about as mad as a bear with a thorn in his...paw' He changed the bear anatomy after shooting a glance to the Goddess warior beside him" (That was not a word for word quote. My book is lent out, so i'm going by memory). Lawl. **

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Heheh...heheh...heheh...Okay, it's been a while. Alright, a long while. And rather than have you listen to all my dribbling excuses, let's just go straight to the chapter.**

**But first, I do want to let you all know that I'm participating in a contest for the DN Writers Faction forum, hosted by the lovely sylvanius. The prompt is called 'Crush' (that in itself should raise eyebrows). **

**M****y entry is called "Talks, Dancing, and Wagers". Please go read it and let me know what you think!**

**Alright, that's it on my part. Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

The welcoming visual that Ozorne had set up in his menagerie was certainly a grand one. The visitors were immediately greeted with a breathtaking show of nature, the type varying as one's eyes traveled around the room. Various cries and roars were heard around the room, and immediately the group started forward, studying seemingly content exotic animals in their manmade habitats.

"My uncle loves animals," Numair heard Kaddar say, "He tries to give them room, and the foods they prefer, and companionship. The ones that don't thrive in captivity he sends back to their homes."

This was certainly not new to Numair. The mage remembered how, when they were boys, the emperor-to-be would spend his spare time in his imperial petting-zoo. Later, when they were older, students at the university, he had refused to partake in any experiment that had used animals as test subject.

As gentle as these set of memories were, however, they were coupled with the vivid image of Ozorne gruesomely torturing a mute slave - a scene Numair had stumbled upon just a few days before the emperor had ordered the arrest for Arram Draper. It was one of his most vivid memories of Carthak. Even now, Numair remembered the slave's soundless shouts, the echoing crack of the whip, the sight of fresh blood splattered everywhere, the torturing devices on the table. Numair shuddered. He knew for a fact that if he had not escaped when he did, he too would have been brought to that torture chamber. It was also his witnessing of this that had compelled Numair to aid Lindhall in all ways Numair could in smuggling willing slaves out of the country.

A bump on his shoulder brought him back to the present. His reminiscing had only lasted a moment, but it was enough that they were deep in the menagerie.

On Varice's request, he followed her and the Duke at the head of the group, and as they stopped at each animal, he explained basic and interesting facts about each species. With Lindhall as his previous teacher and close friend, Numair's knowledge of the animal kingdom was vast, and his genuine interest and enthusiasm for the subject made him a more than suitable teacher for Daine.

Eventually, he became so wrapped up in the animals and the learning that his lectures to the others became musings directed toward himself. He didn't even notice when Lindhall called Duke Gareth and Varice to another exhibit. By the time he realized he was alone by the great, snow-white bears known as polar bears (found and imported from the far tips of the southern ice continent), the rest of the group had spread through out the menagerie.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daine wander to an insignificant turn past the anteaters and mongooses. He smiled and followed her, arriving to see her ogling large, unique canines.

"They're _beautiful_," she said.

Numair's grin widened at her admiration. Most did not call hyenas "beautiful". "Dangerous", "frightening", "bizarre", and "ugly" were the usual adjectives when it came to this species of animals, so it was nice to hear someone say otherwise.

"Spotted hyenas," Numair identified, entertaining her fascination with them. Daine didn't even flinch at his appearance. Numair quickly slipped into another academic lecture; except, this time, his victim was actually interested. "From the grass plains of Ekallatum, far to the south. Night hunters, for the most part—see the eyes?" He gestured to the predators' mirror-like eyes, similar to cats'. "They have the strongest bite of any mortal predator—it crushes even the bones of water buffalo. Hyena packs are matriarchal—"

"Matri-what?" Daine and Kitten inquired in different languages.

Numair smiled at his student, resisting the playful urge to tweak her nose. "Their society is ruled by females," he explained, "Each pack is led by sisters."

"Sensible of them," she grinned back. He fought back a chuckle. She was definitely spending too much time with Alanna.

Varice joined them, a little uncomfortably. Numair looked at her curiously. "Excuse me," she said, "I'm sorry. These animals aren't to be shown to visitors. I don't even know why the emperor keeps them, when he doesn't even like them." Numair's eye brow rose imperceptibly at that. His Imperial Highness, fanatic of animals of all kinds, disliking hyenas? This was different from what he remembered. In fact, if anything, Ozorne showed a slight favoritism towards them, for they're favorites of the Graveyard Hag, patroness of Carthak. Numair suspected that was the reason Ozorne kept them, if he truly did dislike them now. Still, what made his opinion change?

Deep in his thoughts, Numair hardly noticed when Varice led him away.

"Arr – Numair? Is something wrong?" Varice asked, clutching his arm. Her pretty blue eyes widened with innocent concern. Numair used to think her eyes lovely, that no color matched them. But as he looked at them now, he knew they were the same blue eyes most northerners had. He did not think them unique anymore. So why did an image of mischievous storm grey-blue eyes suddenly flash before him?

"No, it's nothing. Just lost in my thoughts as usual," Numair eventually answered, giving her a good natured grin.

"Well, how about we get lost in those gardens for a while instead?" she suggested flirtatiously, implication heavy in her tone.

Numair struggled to keep the grin on his face. Before, he thought flirting pleasant and fun, but now, it was tiring. Why? He wasn't _that_ old. Not even thirty! (he refused to think of his birthday that was in a few months)

"As lovely as that sounds, I believe we are both on a tight schedule." It was a legitimate excuse. Shortly after their tour of the menagerie was the opening banquet, and after that was the first of the peace talks. Numair mentally sighed. He wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

Varice pouted, but sighed in resignation. "Yes, I suppose so. We've all grown now, haven't we? No more sneaking around the university, no time for getting 'lost' in the gardens…"

Numair put more weight on those words than she. "Yes, we certainly have." He was a mature man now, not a boy-student at the university. Mature men shouldn't have time for follies.

But Numair knew he would never 'grow-up' enough that he wouldn't have _fun_. He recalled nights out with George at the Dancing Dove, days with Alanna humiliating him in sword fights (she'd insisted Numair know how to use a physical weapon in case his magic was for some reason inaccessible), and afternoons with his magelet, who'd call for different animals and allow him to learn about them first hand. He supposed, however, his idea of 'fun' was just changing.

The prince was leading them through a second set of gates.

"This is my uncle's other collection. Each and every one was captured and brought here for causing trouble for humans." Numair frowned. What kinds of animals would this be? Most avoid humans, though some rabid and mentally ill ones have been known to inflict harm on humans unfortunate enough to cross their path. Still, Ozorne would not have caged them. He would have put them out of their misery.

Numair had his answer about a second later, when the "collection" came clear into his sight. His ears rang as Kitten screeched painfully, but he was too shocked to care. Immortals of all kinds, from coldfangs to centaurs, were caged and put on display, like idiotic zoo animals. Numair's eyes narrowed. _"Collection" indeed_. Of _course_ the Emperor Mage would want to exhibit his power, his dominance over creatures of legend. Of course he would want to remind all and himself of that power anytime he wished to. How ironic that this confined zoo was located in juxtaposition with his airy menagerie. It was a perfect representation of Ozorne's two-faced personality: the man with an unusual love for animals, and the monster that lusted for power. Though, Numair supposed, his love for animals might be for the same reason he kept these immortals – they could be dominated, and brought under his control.

Numair was distracted from his disgust by Daine's incredulous voice. "I thought your uncle was allied with Stormwings!"

_Curious_, Numair thought. Why would she bring that subject up? He took another painful glance at the room. Sure enough, two Stormwings were also part of this zoo. One – the female - had a regal and commanding air around her. The male had angry, hungry eyes.

"He is," said the prince, "The price of the pact with the Stormwing King Jokhun was that Queen Barzha and her mate Hebakh be kept here. Believe me, she would have caused as much havoc in Carthak as Stormwings have in the north, if my uncle had not made the alliance."

Typical. Still, Numair was perturbed. What had Stormwings to gain from having a queen imprisoned? He supposed individual Stormwings would have ambitions, like humans, but that did not explain why Ozorne wanted _this_ pair held captive. Why capture one queen, to put another king of the same kind in charge? What was so special, so dangerous, about _this_ queen?

"What do you feed them?" Daine's voice, Numair was concerned to note, was shaking. In surprise or anger he did not know. But he could tell from the tenor of her voice she was about to lash out. He tried to put a hand on her shoulder and tell her to calm down, but she just shook him off. "Do you bring folk in and scare them, so they can live on that? And these cages are too small. The griffin can barely open its wings." Kitten added her own complaints. While Numair knew it was risky provoking and insinuating insult to their host, Numair couldn't help but feel pride for Daine's concern for the immortals, even though some were indeed, by nature, dangerous. She had come a long way from the impatient, prejudiced girl she was last year in Dunlath. Numair was reminded again of her growing maturity.

"They don't need food, and they don't require more room," said Varice (who, unbeknownst to Numair, was annoyed that Numair had left her side to go to Daine's). "You know these monsters don't fall ill and die. Unless you kill one, they live forever. Would you rather let them raid villages and destroy crops?"

_And imprisoning only a sample of immortals would keep those things from happening?_ Numair thought wryly. Another curious thing, though. Carthak's villages and towns have not been plagued by immortals at all, other than the ones in this here, apparently. Numair knew this was no coincidence, but he didn't know how Ozorne kept the immortals away. What did he use?

Daine was obviously starting to offend their hosts however, and Duke Gareth diplomatically intervened, placing blame on Daine's aversion to cages. At his request, they exited the menagerie, and went to the shaded hanging garden, where Varice began to show them around, keeping Numair close to her.

* * *

When Numair went to his rooms to change, he was surprised to see Alanna there, leaning on the wall outside his door.

"Alanna? Is something the matter?" he asked.

She grinned at him. "What, a woman can't say hello to a friend?"

"You saw me just ten minutes ago," he pointed out.

"Yes, but I hardly spoke to you. You were too caught up with that blonde." Her grin turned in to a smirk.

Numair's cheeks turned pink as he unlocked his door. She followed him in.

"Are you serious about her?"

"I'd rather not discuss that with you. You're still in sword range."

She laughed. "Relax. I don't go around castrating every man I see, contrary to popular belief. Especially when the woman is clearly asking for it." She sat on a chair by the desk in his room.

Numair's blush darkened. "What would you like to talk about? Unless you are merely here to make fun of my taste in women?"

"Ah, see? Even you realize your taste is questionable."

Numair frowned at her.

She sighed, and sent her magic out, warding the room.

"Oh, so you _do_ have something serious to talk of. Then why didn't you just start with that?" Numair muttered.

Alanna ignored him. "Have you…felt anything odd here?"

"Felt?" Numair said, frowning.

"Around some of the mages, I mean."

He pondered this. He _had_ noticed that some of the important mages had placed strong mental barriers. But he had expected this. Most mages did that to prevent other mages from manipulating them through their minds. However, normally Numair could still get around the weakest of them. When he had told Daine he couldn't read her mind, that first night in the undine clearing, he had spoken the truth. What he could do, though, was capture, no, _entrance,_ a mind. But he rarely does, and most educated people learn to block their minds anyway. Even if he can get around the weak barriers, he still wouldn't be able to use the entrancement spell. But sensing which barriers were weak does allow him to see 'where', so to speak, the mages put the heaviest of their mind barriers, which is often useful information. When scoping some of the higher mages' mind – as that was part of his job on this delegation – he had noticed that they had a strong barrier around an unusual place: the part of their brain they used to observe others – their sight, in other words. Normally, observations were of little consequence. It was the interpretations that had weight. However, seeing as the circumstances of these peace talks were unusual, Numair had believed that warranted for unusual actions. The mages were probably just being cautious.

Numair told this to Alanna, and she sighed. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid then."

"Did the Goddess tell you anything?" Numair asked, referring to Alanna's patron goddess. "Did your gemstone react to something?" He gestured to the pendant on her throat.

She shook her head. "No, but I expected as much. Even the Goddess's influence is weak here."

Numair nodded. This was, after all, the Graveyard Hag's domain. Her only one, and she kept a tight hold on it against her brother and sister gods.

"Was that it then? Or is there something else?"

Alanna nodded. "I thought you should know. On the way to my rooms, I overheard a conversation between Chioké and Kaddar. Chioké kept saying 'Remember your uncle's orders.' He also said, 'Make sure you do what you were told to do while spending time with the girl.'"

Numair frowned. "He means Daine," he said lowly. Alanna gave another nod.

Numair could feel the rage building up in him. If anyone so much as laid a _finger_ on Daine…

The Lioness put a hand on the mage's shoulder. "Numair, calm down. If it helps, the prince looked pretty angry at Chioké."

Numair sighed, forcing his temper back. He had to remember: Lindhall trusted Kaddar. Numair himself would be aiding Kaddar in his rebellion. He knew, however, Kaddar was in an uncomfortable position, being the emperor's heir. Still…

As Numair pondered, he tried to smile at his friend. "Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it. I'll see what I can find out, and will keep you updated."

Alanna gazed at him steadily. "Numair, you can't let your emotions go awry. I know how much you care for Daine, and I know you're very protective of her, but you _cannot_ provoke the imperial party while we're here. You'll only put her in more danger."

Numair sighed, and nodded. "I'm aware of that, Alanna. Don't worry."

"Then why am I?" she quipped.

"I'm serious. I'll be cautious."

Alanna let out a sigh of her own, and said, "Make sure you are. I'd best leave. The banquet is soon. Try not to lead that blonde on too much, okay?"

Numair's blush returned.

"Alanna…"

The Champion of Tortall grinned, took down her wards, and left.

* * *

Numair stared at his food queasily. The many colored sauces and the abstract shapes made his eyes dizzy; the foreign smells made his stomach lurch. He was at loss what to do. His stomach could not, would not, accept this exotic meal, but Varice would notice at _some_ point that he hadn't consumed a bite. Currently, at least, she was preoccupied tending to all the foreign delegations.

He supposed, seeing how he didn't travel much in his youth, Varice couldn't have known the effects sea voyages had on him. He'd only left Carthak to go home on holidays periodically. While he was in Varice's acquaintance, though, he hadn't traveled at all – he had not been able to. After all, tensions between him and his best friend had been rising. No, Varice wouldn't have known that he'd have no tolerance for anything other than simple, mild foods after traveling.

Something on his knee made him look down.

Two palace dogs sat under his place at the table, mouths open, panting for food. _Daine_. He turned and caught her eye, gratitude leaking out of him. And people wondered why he was so protective of her. Daine knew him better than anyone.

Calling on his reserve of hand tricks, Numair swiftly and surreptitiously fed the dogs the food on his plate, his stomach quieting as he watched the food disappear.

When at last Varice came to him toward the end of the banquet, she took note of his empty plate and smiled. "Enjoyed the food?"

Numair gave a smile of his own, secretly amused. "It was lovely."

* * *

Numair sighed as he sat in the chair in front of his nameplate, his seat in the upper part of the Tortallan table. Here's where the hard work began. Numair knew that, at some point, Ozorne was going to make the peace talks as difficult as he could. He was surprised that the emperor had eschewed his pride and obstinacy long enough to even call for the talks in the first place. Numair knew, though, that Ozorne had a hidden agenda. He just had to determine what it was.

He listened in bored silence as the emperor of Carthak gave a predictable speech that made excuses for the openings in the barrier, lamented the chasm between Carthak and the other realms, and glorified the monarchs' desire to make peace. Numair could have practically recited the exact speech simultaneously with Ozorne. He sank farther into boredom as the other ambassadors gave equally predictable speeches.

Finally, Ozorne's delegates made their speeches. Most of them were uninteresting, but Numair paid close attention to Duke Etiakret's and Master Chioké's.

"The nobles of Carthak and I look forward to meeting all of you half way," said Duke Etiakret, representing the nobles and aristocracy of Carthak, "We have missed the close ties that had used to connect all the lands, and are eager to make amends. As you all know, Carthak is in the midst of troubled times and so we have no desire to create more grief. Furthermore, we hope to create a concord so that each realm can trust another.

"I will be honest: our barren lands create more and more worry in Carthak, and in myself. I have seen the growing slums of Carthak and the deteriorating state of my country's peasants, and this greatly troubles me. So be warned, I am determined to see to my country's improvement, and will put forth my best effort to establish an accord that will not only economically strengthen my country, but also other realms, should they be in need in the future.

"But with such benevolent parties present, I am sure my goal will be accomplished."

It was not the most effective rhetoric Numair had heard, but it was very informative. He had already known of Carthak's economic crisis, but now he knew the extent of it. If the aristocracy was getting nervous, then their desperation would be a driving force in Ozorne's scheme. Ozorne needed the aristocracy's wealth to maintain Carthak's rich façade and to supply his vast armies. But if the nobles were to get hesitant in spending and donating their purses, the imperial government would take substantial losses in their wealth and military. Numair knew Ozorne would not and could not allow that. Ozorne needed to provide his country with fertile land quickly. However, whether he would do that through peace or war, Numair wasn't sure. He was inclined to predict the latter, though.

Duke Etiakret had sat back down, and now Master Chioké stood to speak.

"Up until now, miracles have been only the work of the gods. Before this time, only they had the power to make these extraordinary events reality.

"But now – now, my friends, we live in an age of intelligence and will. Through mixing common sense with science, we have surpassed our ancestors knowledge-wise and more. Through the build up of hardships, we have developed a perseverance that the world has never seen. Knowledge is power. Determination is strength. We have continued to grow in both these areas steadily and increasingly. But now we are at the precipice of one of the gravest situations in history. Before, we would have surely fallen. But with our knowledge and intelligence, with our determination and will, perhaps we can slowly float away from the impending chaos. Perhaps we can make the impossible possible. Perhaps we too, can make a miracle."

Chioké seated himself again, and Numair scrutinized him. The ambiguous, vague speech worried Numair. He had no idea what to make of it. Was Chioké trying to remind them of the university's prominence? Was he suggesting a new innovation or discovery? Surely he was not insinuating humans could be on equal footing with the gods?

As Numair racked his mind to make sense of the speech, the Tortallan officials began to make their speeches. Absorbed in his thoughts, Numair hadn't noticed it was his turn until Alanna, sitting directly across from him, kicked his leg. He hastily stood up and recited a generic speech he had prepared – the mages and scholars of Tortall were really represented by Harailt – and quickly sat back down.

Giving up interpreting the mysterious lecture, Numair looked around the room. The speeches were wrapping up, but by now, most people in the room, excepting the clerks, who were scribbling furiously, had far away looks in their eyes – no doubt daydreaming. Numair's eyes then landed on Daine, who sat farther down the table next to Alanna, and saw her yawn. He smiled, recalling times she'd fallen asleep listening to lectures in which Numair would get carried away, speaking endlessly and forgetting about his audience. He watched as a clerk handed Daine a note. She read it, paused, then leaned around the knight to nod at Duke Gareth. Curious, Numair wondered what had been written in the note, until he saw Daine get up, and prompt Kitten. The dragon shook her head, and the girl shrugged and left the room, making her escape.

While Numair knew that there was no reason for her to be present, he was still uneasy with her alone in the palace while the entire Tortallan delegation remained in this room. But before he could worry too much, Numair saw Lindhall get up and follow his student out. Numair relaxed, and returned his attentions to the talks, which were now beginning.

* * *

Numair groaned as he stretched his limbs, getting out of his chair. The room had already begun filing out, and Numair followed suit. He didn't know why he had been so nervous for the talks today. He should have known nothing would get done. The negotiations hadn't been counterproductive, per se, but nothing interesting. Neither side wanted to bring up potential controversial issues the first day. Numair had listened with as much attention he could muster, but by the end of the talks, even he was fighting to keep alert.

Though, there had been _one_ interesting part.

_Each side was talking of their already established alliances_. _It was a standard procedure, mentioned to bring examples of the treaties the country had already made, as well as subtly incorporate the other foreign delegates present, and thus avoid offending them with neglect. Duke Gareth had already listed Tortall's main allies: the Yamani Islands, Galla, Tusaine, etc. Now Duke Etiakret listed Carthak's. _

"_And, recently, we've secured an alliance with the Copper Isles." With that, the duke sat. _

_Numair furrowed his brow. The Carthaki duke did not mention his country's alliance with any Stormwing nation. _

_He was not the only one to notice. The other foreign delegations murmured amongst themselves, and Alanna quirked an eyebrow in his direction. He shrugged._

_Looking away from him, Alanna spoke, "May I inquire something, Duke Etiakret?"_

_The duke looked at her with slight disdain. "Of course, Lioness," he sneered. Obviously, the duke was a conservative, believing females had nothing intelligent to say._

_Alanna ignored his patronizing tone. "I was under the impression that Carthak was also allied with a Stormwing nation. Is that no longer true? Has something gone awry in your dealings with the immortals?"_

_Duke Etiakret glared at her, but Numair could see him flush slightly. "I believe that is none of your party's concern, and would appreciate it if you didn't pry too much in our affairs."_

_Gareth the younger spoke up. "Meaning no disrespect, duke, but it does concern us. Tortall would like to know the alliances the country we're signing a treaty with has, so that we may avoid offending the allied nations and, consequentially, you."_

_The duke turned redder. "I—"_

"_Of course, Sir Gareth. We understand completely." Emperor Ozorne had decided to intervene. "Please forgive our duke's difficult behavior. We are still allied with the Stone Tree nation, and our ties with them are still very strong."_

_Duke Etiakret was still very red. With anger or embarrassment, Numair did not know. Obviously, though, the duke was not supportive of his country's alliance with Stormwings, and Numair couldn't help but wonder why._

Numair pondered this as he got dressed for the supper banquet. Again he wore his black robe, with a blue silk shirt. After putting on some jewelry, he made his way to the designated reception hall for the night, meeting a Gallan delegate along the way.

"Ah, you're Numair Salmalìn, famed black mage of Tortall, yes?" The man was a short man, with green eyes and blonde hair and a small build. He politely stuck his hand out in greeting.

Numair shook it. "I don't know about 'famed', but yes, I am he."

"I'm Duke Tholus Moremsra. We've heard a lot about you. This is your homeland, isn't it?" he asked as they walked together.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance. And no, not really. I was born in Tyra. I only studied at the university here. My home is Tortall now."

Duke Moremsra nodded. "I see. Well, what did you think of the talks today?"

They'd reached the reception hall. Stepping in, they continued their conversation by the wall near the door. "The mood was certainly amiable for the most part. But I really cannot judge now. There was nothing terribly exciting. But then again, what would you expect the first day?"

"True, true. It's politics you know. Always takes at least a week to begin to get to the point. On my part, I found today rather boring. I was at least expecting some swordfight or something along those lines, what with your Champion present," the Gallan joked.

Numair chucked. "Lady Alanna is not nearly as temperamental as you'd think. Well, when she doesn't wish to be, that is. But you're right, today was rather monotonous. My student actually left the rooms after nearly falling asleep in the first ten minutes."

Duke Moremsra laughed with him. "Wise of him."

"Her, actually," Numair corrected politely.

"That's right. The wild mage is your student. Is she not originally from Galla?"

Numair stiffened. "Yes, but she did not find your country the best suited for her, if you forgive my saying so."

"I suppose that makes sense. Perhaps we were not as kind as we should have been to Mistress Sarrasri," the duke said, knowing that the girl's last name would have given her grief.

"Yes, perhaps," Numair said emotionlessly.

"Relax, Master Salmalìn. Prejudice against bastard children is mostly concentrated in the north area of my country. I am from the southern area. Quite near the Tortallan border actually. There we do not put as much weight on the origins of one's conception."

"I'm glad to hear that," Numair said, relaxing slightly.

"She is important to you, yes?" Duke Moremsra inquired.

"Yes, very," Numair replied honestly. "She's one of the most important people in my life." The_ most important person_, was the thought that entered Numair's mind. Surprised, he shook his head to rid himself of it.

The duke got a curiously knowing look in his eye, but before Numair could question him, he said, "Take care of her, then. I'll go on my way now, Master Salmalìn. It was a pleasure meeting you, and I'm sure we'll see each other again eventually."

"Ah…yes. It was a pleasure meeting you as well," Numair said, confused. The duke bowed and walked away.

Numair turned to find Daine waiting for him. Again, she wore an elegant and flattering dress that highlighted her maturity.

He smiled, and reached to brush an errant curl from her cheek. "You're becoming a young lady. If I'm not careful, you'll be grown and married to a deserving fellow before I realize it."

For some reason, his last sentence made his stomach lurch and a small voice whispered in his head, No _one deserves her_. Numair grimaced slightly, wondering what was wrong with him these days.

Daine, anyway, chose not to comment on his observation. Instead she whispered urgently, "When can we talk? You've got to find a way, somehow. It may be fair important."

His brows furrowed. "'It _may be_'?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure…I spoke to the badger yesterday," she finally revealed.

Now Numair's brows rose in surprise. She did? When? "Where?"

"Aboard ship. In my cabin," she answered. Now if Numair concentrated, he remembered Daine mentioning the need to talk to him on deck, but he had been too absorbed in his anxiety to note the request. Feeling slightly guilty, Numair paid close attention as Daine tried to explain the absolute necessity of a discussion without giving too much away. "He was…not himself."

His brows drew together again. "_Not_—" but then the doors on the opposite side of the room – leading to the banquet hall – opened. "Very well," he said hastily, but realizing that whatever the badger had said or done must have been important. "I'll try to develop some opportunity. They've scheduled these meetings so tightly we barely have time to scratch, let alone talk." Daine seemed satisfied with this reply, and together they followed the crowd through the doors.

In the banquet hall, Ozorne, in all his glory, waited by a large window. As the room quickly filled, two Stormwings flew through opening and landed on a golden rail beside Ozorne. One, with an iron crown, was obviously a Stormwing King. Probably the one Carthak was allied with. He and the emperor began to speak lowly to each other, but the king seemed reluctant as he gripped his rail. Numair suddenly remembered the only interesting part of the talks today.

_Of course_, Numair thought wryly, _He wants to put to rest any doubts there might have been before and after the talks on their alliance._ Only the Emperor Mage's desire to maintain Carthak's façade as a powerful nation with powerful allies would drive him to force Stormwings on his reluctant guests.

The second Stormwing began to shift uncomfortably on his part of the rail, and now Numair scrutinized him. Startled, the mage saw something familiar in the creature…

Frowning, he inquired, "Daine, isn't that—from Dunlath?"

"None other," his student replied dryly, looking at Rikash as well, "How nice for us all. We can have a reunion."

**

* * *

A/N: I have to admit, it was difficult figuring out the talks. I knew they would be important in Numair's side of the story, but it was hard figuring out the logistics. I hope they were satisfactory.**

**Reviews are always welcome! -hint hint-**


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